


Starlight

by ScarletRaven1001



Category: Dragon Ball, Dragon Ball Z, Vegebul - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, F/M, Fluff, One Shot, Romance, Smut, dragon ball smut, vbo big bang bonanza, vegebul smut is the best smut, vegebulocracy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-07-02 10:55:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15795069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarletRaven1001/pseuds/ScarletRaven1001
Summary: Summary: Bulma and Vegeta had recently broken up, and both refused to yield and reconcile. However, a chance meeting in the dead of night reminds them that, in a world of darkness, they were each other’s brightest light.My entry for the Big Bang Bonanza hosted by Vegebulocracy. Prompts: Celestials, My UniverseOneshot, AU.





	Starlight

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a standalone oneshot, but it is a grown-up sequel to my Highschool AU posted in my PG compilation, The Prince and His Queen. I hope you like it!

The heavy drops of rain spattered loudly upon her umbrella, and Bulma dejectedly realized that the weather was not going to get better any time soon.

Her yellow boots stepped noisily on the muddied sidewalk, and she hugged her lime jacket closer to ward off the chill that was seeping into her, right through the simple purple dress that she wore underneath.

She raised her head, looking towards her apartment building, cast in deep shadows by the heavy cover of the night sky.

As gloomy as the dark skies were, they seemed to be nowhere near as glum as her thoughts.

All her life, she had fancied herself as strong, beyond reproach.

She had thought that it would be easy for her to move on.

She shook her head, forcing her thoughts away from the path that they were headed into, viciously keeping her attention on the stones that paved her way home…

Home…

What a strange word, for the four walls that served no further purpose than to keep her dry from the storm.

After all, it had been three months, since he had left…

No; since she had _made_ him leave…

Her apartment, once full of laughter and cheer, now echoed with hollow memories of happier times; the silence, made deeper by her loneliness and regrets.

With a sigh, she turned one last corner to find herself standing in the sidewalk across her building, scuffing the toe of her boot along a small dent in the concrete.

She looked up, about to cross the street, and the sight that greeted her pushed all the air from within her lungs into a physically painful gasp.

Resting beneath the scant shade of a small nearby tree, his intense ebony eyes staring sightlessly at his feet as he stood soaking wet from the rain, was her ex-boyfriend.

“Vegeta,” she whispered, her voice small, chest pounding as her feelings viciously shifted between anger, shock and longing.

After their breakup, she had never expected to see him again.

He looked up, and she noted his surprise at seeing her standing there before him, only a few feet away.

Her eyes greedily took in the familiar sight of his thick dark hair, the usually riotous strands plastered wetly upon his forehead.

His brows slanted downwards over his narrow eyes, while his broad shoulders tensed up, fists clenching spastically, and she could _feel_ the discomfort radiating from him as she watched his feet shuffle beneath him as if he was gearing up to turn away.

“Bulma,” he rasped, and the sound of his voice sent shivers down her spine, chills that had absolutely nothing to do with the cold outdoor winds.

He was drenched, his blue button down shirt plastered against his defined chest, and khaki pants turned deep brown from the moisture.

She looked down at his hands, and she sobered as she remembered how those hands had shaken in fury as he pulled his things from his cabinets and into an open luggage, his voice hoarsely screaming words that flew unchecked in his rage.

_“I regret the years I wasted with you.”_

She winced as the mere memory of his words pierced through her again, and she used her hurt, her indignation, to bolster her heart as she spoke.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, brushing her dampening blue bangs away from her face.

“Tch,” he scoffed, and to any outsider, it would seem dismissive, irritated even.

But not to Bulma.

She was no fool.

She didn’t spend every day since her junior year of high school with him, just to be fooled by a half-hearted scoff.

They were together for nearly eight years of her life.

She knew him better than anyone else.

And with all the years of knowing him backing up her senses, she could _feel_ the unease in that small utterance.

Even with his head turned slightly away, as he shielded his eyes from her, she could feel the waves of despair within him.

And she knew that he felt hers, as well.

She startled slightly when he spoke again.

“I was headed home,” he said, “but I was not paying attention to my path. Force of habit brought me here.”

They had, after all, lived together in that apartment for three years.

She swallowed. “And you stayed right there… why?”

He glanced behind him, then shrugged. “I had thought that perhaps I should wait for the rain to let up, before I begin walking back to my apartment.”

“ _Bullshit,”_ she thought as she grimly lifted her eyes to the thinly-branched tree that clearly provided no protection from the rain.

“And why are _you_ still out here?” he asked, and Bulma brought her eyes back to him as she heard the clear distress in his tone. “It is very late. The lights in ou- _your_ apartment are turned on. I thought that you had been back home hours ago.”

He almost said, _our apartment._

It was not hard to catch that slip.

She turned to look at the building, and she realized that from his spot beneath the tree, one of the large windows of the room was visible. From within that window shone the light that she had indeed kept turned on when she left for work that morning.

She had kept it on, to avoid the feeling of coming home to an empty room.

To avoid the darkness that suffocated her… seeming thicker as she laid alone in bed each night.

Her sorrow threatened to choke her again, and she looked back at him, the man responsible for all the heartache that she was going through, and she lashed out.

“What do you care?” she snapped defiantly, and she watched as his eyes narrowed into thin slits, before he angrily strode towards her, making her take a slight step back.

“Dammit, Bulma,” he hissed. “It is dangerous. You should not be out in the streets this late, especially all alone.”

She lifted her gaze to meet his, and she saw his concern swirling within the onyx orbs. She blinked furiously, trying to fight back the tears that threatened to fall…

As she stood before him, she realized with little surprise, just how much she had missed him.

Her heart pounded madly in her ears as she took in the sight of his lips, lips that she knew with deepest intimacy, lips that had kissed her into breathlessness as he held her within the comfort of his arms.

Without thinking, she opened her mouth to speak…

“Would you like to come upstairs?”

Vegeta’s eyes widened in surprise, and she battled a blush as she scrambled to explain.

“To dry off,” she said. “You could get sick, staying wet in the rain like this.

“Bulma-”

“Come up so you can shower and change into some dry clothes. You… you left some clothes in the cabinet. You can use those.”

He looked away from her, and she saw the conflicted look in his eyes before he resolutely dashed it away.

“No,” he said softly, moving away from her.

“Wha-”

“You have always been like this. Worrying about everyone, even those who do not deserve it,” he muttered.

Bulma winced at his words, watching silently as he began to walk away. The thick drops of rain fell heavily upon his back, and try as she might, she was unable to stamp down the worry that rose within her at the thought of how much wetter he could get, how sick he could become from the harsh rains.

“Vegeta,” she called, watching as he paused in his steps. “Vegeta, just… stay out of the rain. Come up with me and dry up.”

She could sense the conflict within him, could see his fists clenching tellingly once again, and she stood her ground, knowing that all it would take was one last little push…

She took a deep breath…

“Please?” she whispered, so softly, that she wasn’t quite sure that he heard.

But he did, and he turned around, slowly walking back to her, and her heart leapt in her chest when he looked up into her eyes and held his arm out for her to hold.

She held him almost gingerly as she led him across the street and into the building, and into an awkwardly quiet trip in the elevator where he promptly dropped her hand and leaned against a far corner.

Neither spoke as they made their way down the hall to the last apartment, and she felt him keenly behind her as she stuck her key into the lock, slowly turning it to let them both in.

He stood unmoving as he discreetly looked around, and she knew what he was seeing.

The walls, once filled with mementos and brightly colored picture frames full of their photos together, were now bare save for the small nails where the décor had once hung from.

The living room was still, obviously unused, as there was no one to lounge on the couch calling for a movie night every weekend.

The kitchen was a mess, the sink full of dirty pots and pans that Bulma had obviously put off cleaning, as there was no one to yell about how she was a “lazy wench who couldn’t pick up a damn sponge”.

Bulma moved first, kicking her shoes off at the entryway, folding her umbrella to hang on a hook near the door before stepping into the main room. She casually removed her jacket to fling it and her purse onto the couch before she turned to him, her heart thumping painfully as she forced a smile.

“Well,” she said, wincing at the forced cheer she could hear in her voice. “You know where the bedroom is.”

He said nothing, merely raising a brow.

“Your clothes are on your- er, the left side of the cabinet,” she said, nervously pushing her long hair back from her face.

She felt moisture begin to gather in the sides of her blue eyes as she watched him nod, as he walked away from her, wordlessly heading into the bedroom that he had once shared with her.

And as soon as he was no longer before her, she was crying, the salty tears leaving wet tracks on her face as she slumped down against the back of the couch, her hand desperately flying to her mouth to muffle the sobs that arose from her chest.

She forced her eyes shut, trying uselessly to stave the tears; fighting the agony, as her heart screamed at her that the man she loved… the man she would always love, was back in her house, within her reach…

And because of her pride, he was no longer hers.

Because of her pride, she couldn’t let him see her like this.

She cast around in her purse, looking for a wad of tissues that she had thrown in there, needing to dry her face, to look composed, once he finished dressing up.

She did not count on him suddenly walking out of the bedroom, wet clothes in hand, dressed in an old shirt and jogging pants.

He stood stunned, looking dazedly at the tear-stained cheeks that she had failed to dry in time.

She tried to play it off, waving a hand before her face. “You, uh... you were fast. Wow. I thought you were gonna take a bit longer in there!”

She watched his eyes narrow before he dropped the wet clothes onto the floor with a _plop,_ and she watched helplessly as he rushed to her, his dark eyes swimming with emotion as he reached out and pulled her into his arms.

She didn’t have the strength to fight him, nor did she want to…

Her mind reminded her that she was angry, that they were done, that she should move on, yet her heart screamed louder, pushing her into the comfort of his embrace as she buried her face into his chest,

She sobbed brokenly against him as she felt his hands tangle into her hair, holding her head to himself as he too took deep gulps of air, his stuttered breaths blowing against her ear as he seemed to try to curl into her.

“Vegeta, I…”

“Bulma, forgive me,” he said, and anything she had been about to say died a swift death in her throat.

Vegeta never apologized, and hearing the words come from him stunned her, making her lift her head so she can look at his face.

He stared into her eyes, his arms tight around her while his hands ran greedy circles across her back, pulling gently at her hair and clutching at the material of her dress.

“The things I said,” he continued, swallowing loudly as he forced words out through gritted teeth. “I did not mean them. I… I was a fool-”

“No. no,” she interrupted while tears streamed down her face, shaking her head as she lifted a hand, placing them upon his lips. “I started it. It was my fault. I was so stupid, and jealous, and stubborn…”

“And I was insensitive and brash,” he said, lifting a hand to hold hers, placing her warmth against his cheek. “I… I will quit the firm, if that is what you want-”

“Don’t,” she sobbed. “I was being stupid, Vegeta. That job is what you have always wanted. I know that this firm is important to you, especially now that you’re almost done with law school.”

“It is not worth what I have been through for these past months,” he rasped, holding her tighter as she thought she saw his eyes begin to water. “Tonight… I lied. I was here because I needed to be near you. I was desperate enough that I had just stared at the light from this room from across the street. I just needed to see that you were alright.”

“I kept your clothes in the cabinet coz I was pretending you were still here,” she confessed, breaths hitching in her throat. “I keep the lights on because this place is so… _dark_ … without you.”

He inhaled deeply. “I… I could not be without you.”

“Vegeta, please, I was wrong. I was so angry that I failed to see it, but I see it now… Please, please… forgive _me_ ,” she cried, holding on tighter, the sobs coming out louder as she finally held the missing part of her soul within her grasp. “I miss you. I want you back. I _need_ you back!”

“Then take me back,” he whispered, as he lowered his head to be face to face with her. “Take me back.”

“Yes!” she cried, her very spirit singing as she realized that it was not too late… they could do this again.

This was their second chance, and she was not going to waste it.

“Yes, Vegeta, yes!” she moved to hold his face in her hands, staring deep into his eyes. “Stay with me… Don’t leave me again.”

“Never,” he growled, before he lunged, taking her lips onto his in an unbelievably passionate kiss.

She jubilated in her head as she melted against him, her hands reaching for his shoulders so she could cling to him while he plunged into her mouth, his tongue seeking hers, inhaling her essence as she fed from his fervor.

It had been so long, and she relished every sensation, every fleeting caress of his powerful hands that ran unendingly over her skin.

She moaned against him, pushing herself closer to him, willing his closeness to erase the pain of the past agonizing weeks that she had gone without his love.

Her tears continued to fall as she felt him begin to slow down, his lips moving leisurely, gently, against hers. She felt his hands hover over her sides before he softly clutched her waist, and suddenly, it was like they were teenagers all over again, learning to kiss and touch each other for the very first time.

She smiled against him, thinking about their first kiss after their first date; the very first time she admitted that she loved him; the first time they had made love, a few days before they left their home town to begin university.

And with those cherished memories floating around in her mind, she kissed him back as slowly and as gently as she dared, making a new memento of this moment.

Knowing that this was a new chapter, and this kiss, though far from their _first_ , was the first of their new life together, the first to come after they had mistakenly turned their backs on each other… only to come running back as they realized that what they had was irreplaceable.

She loved him… he loved her…

There could never be anyone else.

Vegeta was her guiding light, the brightest spot within an endless night sky full of faded, distant stars.

Touching him once again, Bulma felt as if she was holding magic in her palms, a celestial gift from the heavens, brought to her in a grumpy and rather temperamental package that she would never, ever trade for anything and anyone else, ever again.

She gasped as they finally pulled away, and Bulma gazed deeply into his eyes as he gave her the smallest grin, pulling her by the hand as he began to walk backwards, leading her confidently towards _their_ bedroom.

She had barely set foot inside when he softly closed the door and turned the lights down low, turning to her with an awed sort of reverence in his eyes, before he reached behind her, grasping the zipper to her dress.

With deliberate slowness, he began to pull it down, leaving her shivering as his fingers ghosted across her bare skin, and she understood exactly how he felt as she shrugged her dress off, standing before him in nothing but her undergarments and her heart in her hands.

She needed to feel him again, to reassure herself that he was truly there, to touch him and know that they were taking their chances with each other once more.

Bulma needed to feel close to Vegeta again.

She moved forward, slowly reaching for his shirt, and she looked up at his face, studying the usual lines and angles of his eyes, lips and jawline as she lifted the thin cloth, letting her fingers stroke the bronze skin of his abs and chest as she pulled the shirt over his head.

She stood back to admire his chiseled torso, and unable to stop herself, she laid her palms flat against the hard planes, marveling at the beauty of his body.

He took a quick, deep inhale, and she stepped closer to him, her hands gliding along his sides, smoothing along his waist until she reached his waistband.

She let her fingers pluck at the elastic, and as she began to push it down his hips, Vegeta also moved to slowly pull the straps of her bra over her shoulders, reaching around to deftly unclasp her bra to let it fall down her arms.

She pulled back to let it drop to the ground before she resumed undressing him, now impatient as she pushed his pants down, not at all surprised to find him sans underwear.

Vegeta chuckled, pulling her attention back to his face, and she grinned shyly as she saw the mischievous light in his eyes.

“My boxers were wet,” he offered, and she snorted slightly, shaking her head.

He surprised her when he suddenly swooped down, catching her by the thighs, and she gasped as he pulled her to himself, effortlessly carrying her to the center of their bed.

 She smiled up at him as he hovered over her, and her thighs quivered as she felt his hands on her hips, his blunt nails lightly scratching at her as he slowly pulled her panties down her legs, leaving a fiery trail of desire as her every pore was seemingly attuned to each minute movement.

When they were both bare before the other, he leaned down, pressing his body to hers, and she moaned softly as the mere feel of his skin, meeting every inch of her, sent her senses tingling.

She needed him so bad, and she felt her thighs grow moist as her desire began to overwhelm her before he even began to truly hold her.

Bulma felt his hands skim her stomach, reaching up to gently cup her breasts, and she took a sharp breath as she felt his thumbs gently caress her nipples.

Each sensation felt familiar yet brand new, and she mewled eagerly when his lips wrapped around a peak, rolling it with his tongue as his warm breaths whispered across her chest.

Beneath his skillful strokes, he soon had her arching back, needy whines leaving her lips as he moulded her to his touch, goosebumps running along her body as she closed her eyes against the feel of him above her.

His maleness rubbed deliciously against her lower stomach, and Bulma cried out as his wicked mouth decimated her every thought, until the universe seemingly melted around her, leaving behind only him… her only starlight, the center of her universe.

As his hands and mouth pleasured her body, the depth of her feelings mounted, launching her into ecstasy as she shook, sobbing out his name while his fingers lovingly stroked her core.

“Vegeta! Please… make love to me. Let me feel you,” she whispered urgently, and he complied, rising up to gently kiss her lips as one of his hands tangled in her hair, the other moving to clutch himself, aligning himself with her entrance.

He pushed in, painfully slowly, and Bulma laid entranced by the darkness of his eyes as he entered her, becoming one with her again after the eternity of their months apart.

“Bulma,” he breathed, raining small kisses along her cheeks, hands tightly fisting the sheets as he held himself above her, panting loudly while she gasped harshly against his skin.

Her hands were restless, roaming his back, his buttocks, delighting in the feel of his warm sweat beading along his spine.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, before she moved her hips, and Vegeta groaned loudly as she moaned, urging him to move, to make her his once more.

Bulma saw stars as Vegeta pressed his hips against her, before he pulled back, leisurely, his eyes narrowed as he watched her thrash in his arms.

Before either knew it, they were writhing against each other, their bodies seeking their peaks while their touches selflessly spurred the other on, and Bulma’s moans began to grow louder as his breathing grew ever heavier.

“Ah! Vegeta,” she cried, her eyes squeezing shut as she concentrated on the pleasure of his love. Her head whipped from side to side, her head pressing back against her pillow as her entire form shuddered in glee and anticipation. “You feel so _good.”_

He groaned deeply, pumping his hips faster, and she felt his hand reach out to hold her face, tenderly stroking her cheek.

“Your eyes…” he gasped as he moved faster. “Open your eyes…”

She forced her eyes open, staring at his face that was twisted in his agonized delight.

Bulma gazed at him, and as she watched his face, she realized that it would be foolish to shut her eyes again, to miss out on the magnificence of his ecstasy.

They twisted in desperation, eyes locked, lips meeting in deep kisses as they climbed higher… higher…

“I love you, Vegeta,” Bulma sobbed, her arms reaching around to hold him tight, her fingers threading through the dark strands of his hair. “I love you. I love you…”

He moved harder in response, and she saw his mouth fall slack, brows furrowed, before the words she needed to hear finally left his lips…

“Bulma… I love you…”

With those words, and the overwhelming pleasure of their union, Bulma screamed, her vision turning white as her rhapsody claimed her, and she was acutely aware of Vegeta as he too groaned, long and low, before she felt his essence flood her body with his love.

He collapsed on top of her, breathing harshly as she tried to take in large gulps of air. She was winded, exhausted… but wrapped up in Vegeta’s arms, she luxuriated in the moment, a serene smile on her face.

Vegeta kissed her shoulder before he moved off her, laying beside her on their bed. He turned over, pulling her to him, holding her to his hard chest, and she grinned as she listened avidly to the rapid beating of his heart.

“I am really sorry, Vegeta,” she finally muttered, breaking the gentle silence. “I was jealous, and I felt neglected while you got busier. I… I should know better.”

He scoffed. “Yes, you should. But I… I should also be more considerate.”

She craned her neck, looking up him as he leaned down to look at her. “Move back in with me?”

The slow smirk that split his face, and the light reaching his dark eyes, answered her before his words did.

“I’ll start packing tomorrow morning,” he answered.

With a contented sigh, she snuggled back against him, until the calming sound of his breathing lulled her to sleep.

Vegeta was back. And suddenly, the whole world seemed brighter once again.

8-8-8-8-8

End


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